Fireflies in the Rain
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Angus MacGyver has quite possibly had the worst birthday ever, the promise of a perfect day ruined by a betrayal he never imagined coming. It is now up to Jack Dalton to pick up the pieces and prove to Mac that not everyone he trusts is so quick to walk away. Additional Author Notes inside.


Fireflies in the Rain

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: And here is the new story I promised. This is a bit of a teaser for the AU I have tentatively titled **_Between Brothers._** It's a little different but completely MacGyver. Bear with me as I set the stage. I would love to know what you think. You will find a whole bunch of characters from the series and a few characters from my other stories as well as Gib's G.I. series, which if you haven't read, you should. No romance. No Mary Sues. Other writers tackle those areas much better than I could. I did however take great liberty in my lightning bug facts after reading that sadly enough some of our Western states don't actually have the fireflies that light up. If this is true, I'm sorry for you all, but for creative purposes, in true fiction fashion, I am ignoring a bit of reality. This AU _will_ progress to present time in future stories. The boys will still work for Phoenix. Also, if you want to play in this AU, feel free. It is an open sandbox and I would love to see others spin some tales here! Special thanks to Kelcor and Gib who truly made this piece better and my beta Mary who gave the green light when I said I wanted to do something a little different! She didn't even groan at my geekiness!

" _In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." –Francis Bacon_

RCJ

 **June 2003**

Jack Dalton was pretty sure he hated James MacGyver from the first time he met him nearly twelve years before. The year was 1989. San Francisco 49'ers had been crowned Super Bowl champions, Sunday Silence had won the Kentucky Derby, and Milli Vanilli weren't yet a farce. Jack had just turned 13. The kind of instant dislike he harbored for James was the kind only a newly minted teenage boy could muster for a stranger. It was fueled by an influx of new hormones and fanned by a bunch of old grief. There was also the fact that the bastard had just shown up to take Jack's mom on a date.

Jack had grumbled his way through that initial meeting, sulking during every moment of his forced captivity as his mom, Emma Reed Dalton, had expected him to at the least say hello and demonstrate the good manners she'd worked tirelessly to instill in him. The fact Jack's grandparents, Jack's _father's_ own parents seemed entirely okay with the arrangement only fed his ire. In that moment Jack considered the people he loved most to be traitors, the lot of them. Even if those around him were blind, Jack understood without a doubt that James MacGyver was the enemy.

Jack would spend the next six months waging war against everyone he believed had betrayed the memory of his dad, but he saved his A-game for the man who had somehow managed to steal Emma Dalton's heart, a feat Jack's father had sworn had taken him more than a year of begging and pleading and making a fool of himself by reading every one of Jane Austen's novels, which had finally impressed Emma enough that she agreed to have coffee with the cocky Air Force pilot . It pissed Jack off that James MacGyver made the whole process look so damn easy. Jack doubted the man even knew who Jane Austen was, or that she was his mother's favorite author. Either Jack's father had exaggerated the lengths he'd gone to, which he was known to do, especially when it came to his flying feats or fishing, or James had some kind of secret brainwashing power. Back then, Jack's thirteen year old imagination hadn't put it out of the realm of possibility that his mother, as smart as she was, had been struck with some sort of dastardly love spell.

In all fairness, Jack's dad had been dead for three years before James MacGyver entered the picture, but that didn't keep Jack from acting as if his mom was committing some awful act of adultery. He'd done everything possible to punish her for the imagined crime and to come between the two love birds. Jack's mother had promised to love his dad forever and Jack, being the heartbroken kid that he was, couldn't understand how she could possibly dare to give her heart to another. Jack had tried everything to change her mind, was determined to destroy what he could only see as a threat, going so far as to pull stunts that ranged from running away and getting into fights to the granddaddy of them all which culminated in him being arrested for joyriding.

Looking back now with more than twelve years of perspective, Jack could see that he had only hurt himself, and worse, the person he'd been trying to protect from the get go- his mom. It had taken James finally conceding defeat and offering to be the bigger man by stepping aside to bring Jack to his senses. The talk his Nana Beth had given him the night MacGyver threw in the towel, effectively breaking Jack's mom's heart for the second time in so many years, hadn't hurt either. She'd told Jack that sometimes when you loved someone, really loved them, you did what was right for _them_ even if it went against everything you thought you wanted for yourself.

Beth had shared a difficult truth with Jack that night over hot chocolate and peanut butter cookies. Sometimes doing the hardest thing was the right thing she'd told him as gently as possible, and Jack knew she was speaking from a place of understanding, because even if Jack had lost a dad, and Emma a husband, Beth had lost her only son. But taking Jack's hand in her own, holding it tightly to her, she'd also promised Jack that when it seemed God was taking something precious from us, often times He was actually making room for something brand new, possibly something we never imagined wanting, but desperately needed just the same.

Looking at the computer screen before him now at the ten year old kid practically eight thousand miles away on the other side of the world safe from the war Jack was currently fighting, he could easily concede his grandmother had been right back then. Jack had never known he'd wanted a little brother, or even imagined that was a possibility when he'd finally come around about his mother marrying James and moving them to California, but there was no denying that Angus Reed MacGyver was exactly what Jack had needed all along.

"And what did you say that thing was?" Jack asked, pointing to the glass structure he could see sitting on the desk beside the boy. He already knew the answer but loved the look his ten year old brother got when he went to tell Jack something he obviously thought the older man should already know.

"It's a terrarium, Jack." A slight grin tugged at the kid's mouth, a hint of a dimple playing at his cheek.

"You say that as if that fancy word is going to explain anything to Wyatt." Boxer, one of the guys from Jack's Delta unit leaned over Jack's shoulder, making sure his big head came into view of the computer's camera. He gave Mac a huge grin. "You should know better, baby brother. Dumb it down a bit for him why don't ya."

"Don't listen to him, bud." Jack elbowed his old friend. He'd known Boxer since they were boys in Texas when both their dads had been stationed at Lackland Air Force Base. It was providence that they'd gone through boot camp at the same time and both ended up serving together in Delta. Jack's father had been the only one to call him Wyatt, but Jack let Boxer use his middle name because it was nice to have one person who knew and remembered Jack's dad. "You know Box's just jealous of my superior intellect."

"No, Box is right. My bad." Jack smirked when the kid shoved way too long blond bangs out of his silver blue eyes, eyes so much like their mom's that sometimes it hurt Jack's heart just to look at them. He narrowed his gaze as he spoke slowly like Jack might also be hard of hearing and not just a few pay grades below his IQ level. "Simply put, a terrarium is a miniature ecosystem for plants, like their home, a place where they live," the kid explained unnecessarily, obviously enjoying Jack's chagrin.

"Baby brother has your number, man," Boxer laughed slapping Jack on the back. He gave Mac a thumbs up and a quick serenade of Happy Birthday before making his way back to his bunk where he had been packing his gear for their latest mission. Jack made sure the inappropriate hand gesture he sent his friend was out of the camera's view.

"You're not really supposed to put bugs or animals inside them," Mac continued on about the terrarium. "But I like to sometimes study insects and spiders. I don't hurt them," he assured Jack. "I let them go after watching them for a while, just like mom used to do with the fish we'd catch at the lake on the ranch."

"I never had a doubt, kiddo." Jack grinned, thinking of how their mother was the ultimate pacifist. Her catch and release policy even extended to taking spiders outside the house even though she was terrified of the hairy creatures. Mac not only had their mom's eyes, but he had her giant heart as well. "Was that fancy bug house a birthday present?"

Mac's smile widened and he nodded. "An early one from Grandpa. We collected some Lampyridae the other night at our special spot and he thought I might like to keep them in it to study their bioluminescence properties and synchronized flashing in a controlled setting. You know their light is the most efficient light in the world. Scientists call it cold light because it doesn't produce heat like our energy sources. It's okay to keep them a day or two as long as they have air."

"Synchronized flashing and bioluminescence properties of Lampyridae, right." Jack leaned his elbows on his own makeshift desk, flipping his Cowboy's baseball cap around backwards. He sometimes worried that in a few years he'd need to carry a dictionary to have a conversation with the kid. "You couldn't just say fire flies?"

Jack was rewarded with a shoulder shrug and another dimpled grin. "I could, but that's a little like you calling a Boeing AH-64-E Apache Guardian just another chopper."

Jack snorted. "Touche', little brother."

"I turned ten today." Mac's smile faded beneath the beginnings of a scowl. "Double digits."

"I'm aware." Jack continued to smile, having an idea of where this conversation was heading. "At five fifty-five A.M. to be exact. I remember because I was there and totally pissed at your early morning arrival. It was a Saturday, dude, and I didn't even have to go to school that day but there I was hanging out at a lame hospital before the roosters were even up. Fifteen year old's like their sleep. We aren't even going to talk about all the hours of that I missed out on once mom brought you home."

Jack was impressed that Mac ignored his teasing, staying focused on laying the groundwork of his argument. "My point is that if I was a native of the Masai tribe I'd be sent out to kill a lion in the jungle." He looked up, meeting Jack's eyes. "All by myself, with nothing but my wits and a blade."

"I gotta say I'm pretty stoked you're _not_ doing that, bud." Jack quirked a brow. "Remember the time you tried to rescue old Mrs. Livingston's cat from the tree in our front yard. You have scars that prove felines are not in your skill set."

"I'm not being literal." Mac's brow furrowed in frustration. "Turning ten is still a big deal here in America and even if I don't hunt down a lion I really think you and Boxer should call me Mac now."

"Oh really," Jack chuckled at his brother's completely serious proposal. "How about I just call you by your first name then, _Angus_?"

"You know I don't like that." Mac shoved the bangs out of his eyes again, and Jack wondered not for the first time why James hadn't taken the kid for a haircut. By the looks of the too-small shirt he was wearing, he was due a trip to the mall as well. "If I was a Native American Indian I could have a naming ceremony now and change it to whatever I wanted, but since I'm not Native American, I'll never forgive you for it you know."

"I'm your brother. You have to forgive me. That's what family does." Jack glanced at his watch as a few more guys from their unit filtered in. He met Mac's gaze once more. "Besides it could have been worse. Mom had picked out something completely girly, like Fitzwilliam or maybe it was Heathcliff after some broody character she liked in a book. Your grandpa was pushing for Halley after the guy who named the comet. You should be grateful your dad let me do the honors. At least Angus is a strong, manly name."

"We both know that's not why you picked it." Mac folded his arms over his thin chest, having heard the story of how he'd gotten what Jack knew he believed to be one of the worst names ever. If Jack had known at the time that it would have caused his little brother such grief, he'd never have proposed it, even if it had given him a bit of satisfaction to get one over on James.

Although Jack and his step father's relationship had improved leaps and bounds by the time Jack's mom had gotten pregnant with Mac, Jack had found the initial prospect of sharing his mother with yet another man a little hard to stomach and blamed James for the new slight. So, James, to make peace once more, suggested Jack be the one to name the latest addition to their family. Jack had tossed out Angus as a bit of a joke, but before he could retract it and propose Austin, which he'd been planning on all along his mother had latched onto Angus, proclaiming it perfect. She'd already written in on the birth certificate along with her maiden name of Reed before Jack or James could utter a protest. "Dad said you picked it because he used to call you Cowboy when you were a kid and you wanted to pay him back."

"Mom loved your name," Jack noted, although his brother had a point. It _had_ been a bit of revenge on his part. At the time having a kid brother hadn't seemed that appealing, Jack not understanding or even able to comprehend how much he'd love this brand new person as the years went by. "That's the only thing she would call you."

"I know." Mac let his hair hide his face this time, not bothering to shove it aside as he thoughtfully ran a finger around the Terrarium's base. "Just another reason no one else should use it."

Jack decided a change in subject was called for. "So, did you get _my_ birthday present?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Mac's posture changed instantly and he jumped from the chair, disappearing from view. Jack heard the distinct sounds of the kid's closet door opening, and then a creek that meant Mac was accessing the loose board which would reveal the hiding place for his most treasured items. "Harry said I should wait until we could Skype again to open it," Mac's disembodied voice floated from across the room. When he returned he was holding a wrapped box, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "Can I open it now?"

"I sure didn't buy it for you to look at the pretty packaging, brother."

Mac didn't need any further encouragement as he tore the paper from the box, his breath catching slightly when he realized what lay inside. "It's a Swiss Army Knife."

"It's a Victorinox Huntsman to be exact," Jack told his brother, enjoying the wide-eyed, thrilled stare with which Mac was regarding the gift. "A guy probably couldn't kill a lion with it, but it is the kind soldiers carried in World War II. Since you're practically a man now I figure you can handle the responsibility."

"You know American soldiers were the first to call it a Swiss Army knife because they couldn't say Offiziersmesser, the German name." Mac remained completely serious as he lifted the shiny red knife from the packaging with reverence, studying the small Victorinox cross. "Elsener named his company Victoria after his mother, and the inox comes from the word for stainless steel."

"What?" Jack laughed, not the least bit surprised that his super smart little brother could not only toss out such a mouthful of trivia but actually pronounce the original German name. Jack might need a language tutorial as well as a dictionary and thesaurus if he was going to having any hope of keeping up with the kid.

"I love it, Jack," Mac said, lifting his gaze to stare at the computer now. His blue eyes were brighter than before. "It's the best present ever, well,…" Mac hesitated, glancing down at the knife once more before looking back to the screen, "Except for you being here in person. I miss you. A lot."

"I know, bud." Jack sighed, running a hand over his mouth. He hated like hell that he hadn't been home for nearly six months, weekly Skype sessions and occasional phone calls were the only contact he had with Mac. When he'd joined the Army two years before he hadn't planned on Operation Enduring Freedom costing him a great chunk of his own personal liberty. "I miss you, too. I'd give anything to be there. You know that, right?"

"I know, Jack." Mac carefully placed the knife back in the box. "Nana Beth says you're protecting the country from people like Al Qaeda and the Taliban. She said we just have to be patient because you're making the world a safer place, and that sometimes we have to share the people we love even when it doesn't seem fair." Mac bit his lip and Jack felt a swell of pride at the kid's attempt to be brave.

"That Nana Beth is a really smart cookie." Jack said, clearing his throat. He knew he was being a bit of a coward by changing the subject, but he wanted his brother to have the best birthday possible and wouldn't let the fact that he wouldn't be there overshadow the festivities. "So what is the big plan for the day, _Mac_? What am I going to be missing while I'm here hanging out with Boxer in this crappy desert?"

"Are you sure you really want to know?" Some of the sadness faded from Mac's face as he lifted his gaze to meet Jack's once more. "You're totally going to be jealous."

"Lay it on me, brother. I think I can take it."

"I'm having a huge party. With a piñata and everything."

"No way." Jack rocked back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. He wondered what constituted 'huge' in his brother's mind. Considering the kid's tendency for loner status, Jack had an idea it wouldn't exactly gel with most people's definition. "Is there going to be actual candy in that piñata or is something geeky going to fall out, like science lab shit?"

"There's candy, Jack." Mac narrowed his gaze, disapprovingly. "And four letter words just show the world you're not smart enough to think of something better to say."

Jack snorted. "Did Harry tell you that?"

"No, Nana Beth says it to JP all the time when he's watching the Cowboys play." Mac practically bounced in his seat. "They're coming you know! Nana Beth and JP are coming all the way from Texas!"

"That can't be right." Jack pretended to be shocked although he'd already known his grandparents had determined to make the trip to California months ago. Mac's last name might not have been Dalton, but Beth and JP hadn't let that stop them from claiming him as their own. Sometimes Jack was pretty sure Mac was their favorite, despite Jack's biological status. "Surely you must have got that wrong, bud."

"They will be here by dinner," Mac insisted. "Nana Beth is making all my favorites."

"Peach cobbler?" Jack teased.

"That's your favorite. She's making me cherry pie and a cake."

"Okay, you're right." Jack let his chair settle back on the floor, slapping his hands on the table. "I'm a little bit jealous. Do you know how bad the food is over here? I'd almost give my trigger finger for a piece of Nana's fried chicken?"

"That's not the best part," Mac prattled on and Jack shook his head at the boy's excitement. He'd not seen Mac quite so animated since he'd figured out some chemical equation back in science class a few months before.

"Let me guess, your new buddy Bozer is coming, the one who gave you his pudding cup, and that cute little girl with the pig tails, what's her name? Jenny Barker?"

"You mean Penny Parker." Mac rolled his eyes. "But I didn't invite her because she's a girl and she's always staring at me in class and drawing gross hearts around my name which she wrote on her notebook, but Bozer's coming. Mr. and Mrs Bozer are coming too. Did I tell you Bozer's my new best friend?"

"Hey now, I understand the persuasion power of a good pudding cup and all, but I thought _I_ was your best friend." Jack was secretly thrilled that Mac had finally made a connection with someone in his school, the kind of connection that didn't involve him coming home with bruises or hurt feelings. Sometimes it seemed Mac was too smart for his own good. While Jack was awed by the things his brother could rattle off, his peers were often put out, or even worse, intimidated by Mac's insights. Mac was different, and as a general rule, kids preferred the status quo.

"You're my brother, Jack. That's a completely different. You're like a best friend with super powers."

"Okay, but as your brother I feel it is my duty to tell you to call Penny Parker up and invite her to the party. Girls have a whole other kind of super power of their own, dude. There's going to come a time when you're definitely going to want them to notice you. You might even want to write their names in your little black book."

"Why would I ever do that?" Mac tilted his head , a perplexed look marring his self-assured features. "And what kind of super power?"

"That's a talk for another day." Jack glanced at his watch hating that time wasn't something he could give Mac, even on his big double digits day. "I'm afraid we'll have to have that man to man chat at a later date, like when you're shaving and cooking up something in your science lab to ward off acne."

"But Jack," Mac stalled. "I haven't told you the best part yet."

"Okay." Jack made a bit of a rolling motion with his hand. "But make it quick because I'm wheels up in a bout twenty. Pilot or not, they're not going to wait on me and we both know no one want's Boxer filling in for me because he can't even fly a paper plane let alone one with real engines."

Mac leaned closer to the screen his voice dropping an octave to almost a whisper. "I think Dad's planning a big surprise. He's been gone on a business trip now for almost a week, but I'm pretty sure he's coming home today and bringing a huge present. It might even be the rocket he promised we'd build together or maybe a telescope."

Jack had been halfway out of his seat, but sat back down, his stomach twisting in warning. He could sense Boxer off to his side and when he glanced over the other operator tapped his own watch. Jack held up a hand. "What makes you think that, bud?"

Mac shrugged, his hopeful grin firmly in place. "He's my dad. That's what dad's do, right?"

"Right." Jack nodded, hating that his first thought was to correct Mac. _That's what_ good _dad's do._ James MacGyver hadn't been a good dad in a long time. Five years to be exact. Whatever paternal abilities James had seemed to possess died right along with Jack and Mac's mother. "Hey, bud, is Harry around?"

"Grandpa's out back setting up the yard for the party."

"Could you tell him I need to talk to him just a second?"

"Sure, but you know how he feels about technology." Mac picked up his knife. "I'm going to go show Bozer my present. His mom won't even let him use grown up scissors and she cuts his food up for him at dinner."

"Just make sure _you_ don't cut any fingers off with that, brother." Jack forced a grin. "I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt on my watch."

"I'm ten, Jack." Mac reminded him with extreme seriousness. "I can take care of myself now."

"Well, I don't care if you're twenty five and have killed a whole pack of lions, Dude." Jack said. "It will always be my job to watch out for you. You get that, right?"

"You promised mom I would always be your number one priority." Mac sighed, rolling his eyes. "I get it. And lions form a pride, Jack, not a pack"

"Whatever, Angus." Jack said with a roll of his eyes this time, smirking at his brother's glower. He had promised their mother to take care of Mac, but Jack's devotion went beyond any kind of death bed vow. Jack had loved his father and mother as much as any son could love the parents who had given him life and lavished him with unconditional care, but there was something about the bond between brothers that Jack had not expected. He would do whatever in his power to protect Mac. Jack made a fist and put it up to the screen, the closest he could come to the secret handshake he and Mac had forged from the time Mac could curl his little fingers together. "Now bring it in for a fist bump."

Mac mimicked bumping his hand against Jack's. "You know we could just 'say' fist bump."

"What's the fun in that?" Jack winked at the ten year old. "Happy Birthday, Mac."

"Thanks, Jack." Mac disappeared from view of the camera, but not a second later his blond head popped back in front of the screen. He gave a wide grin. "I love you, big guy."

"Love you back, brother." Jack laughed, caught off guard by the rare profession and the smile that had accompanied it. Jack wasn't sure if it was the loss of their mom at such an early age or the fact Mac's father was to say the least reserved in his display of affection that had shaped Mac's nature to be somewhat serious and less than open with his feelings, but sometimes getting Mac to let his guard down and open up was as tricky as maneuvering a mine ridden field.

"Ain't that sweet," Boxer said from behind Jack and a chorus of oohs and ahhs echoed from their buddy Coop, as well as a couple of the other guys in Jack's unit.

"Shut up or I will beat you all senseless," he warned.

"If you don't hurry it up, Hoss, you'll be the one on the receiving end of a beat down." Coop pointed a finger at Jack, then gestured to the door. "Cap's already waiting and if we miss rendezvous that's on you."

"You guys go on and head to the bird without me. Coop, get on the radio and buy me five more minutes." Jack turned to look at the big man.

"What the hell am I supposed to tell them?"

"I don't know, man," Jack snapped. "Tell them I had to take a last minute shit. I just need to clear something up at home."

Coop looked extremely put out, a guise not hard for him considering his stature, girth and at times volatile nature but he nodded. "You owe me a steak and a beer when we get back. I'm not talking the questionable stuff either, brother. I want actual cow."

"You got it," Jack promised and watched as his fellow operators with the exception of Boxer filed out.

"Is something wrong, Wyatt?" Box gestured to the screen. "Baby Brother seemed hyped about his party."

"That's what worries me." Jack ran a hand over his mouth. "High expectations aren't always the best things to have at the MacGyver household these days."

"You think your step dad is going to screw up again?"

"That's a given." Jack growled, thinking of the last few years when James's tendency to be absent more than present had continued to steadily increase. "When and how bad are the unknown variables, as Mac would say."

"I don't understand why he didn't just let you have custody from the beginning if he was going to be some kind of dead beat dad," Box said thoughtfully, gesturing to the screen. "You would be home with Mac now and the kid wouldn't have to live in a constant state of upheaval with his old man and constantly be afraid that his big brother might be shot out of the sky at any time."

"Yeah, well James seemed to think that him being Mac's actual dad and all meant he could do a better job of taking care of the kid than a twenty one year old screw up." Jack flashed Box a forced grin that he hoped hid the stabbing pain that the mere mention of Jack's massive failure to protect Mac brought to his heart.

Boxer frowned. "Here I just thought he was being a selfish, spineless dick."

"I appreciate the sentiment, buddy. But we both know you were one of the only ones that thought a college drop out with some anger issues and a bit of a drinking problem stood a chance in hell of taking on the legal system and winning." Jack gave a wearied sigh. Just thinking of the whole ordeal gave Jack a headache. Sarah, Jack's on again off again girlfriend, and Boxer had been the sum of Jack's fan club when Jack wanted to step in as Mac's guardian after their mother's passing. Even Jack's grandparents hadn't gotten behind the idea of Jack being the right choice when James spiraled after his wife's death. Looking back Jack could see that his actions hadn't exactly inspired confidence considering he hadn't handled his mother's drawn out illness and dying much better than James. Still, he'd never been so blinded by his grief or lost in his own misery to lose sight of Mac. The same could not be said of James. That didn't stop him from retaining custody of his son, although in the end he'd at least had the common sense to take JP Dalton's strongly worded suggestion to allow James' father, Harry MacGyver, to move in with them to help care for the then six year old.

"You're in a different place now, Wyatt." Box interrupted Jack's trip down memory lane. "Hell, you're a fucking hero, dude."

"I don't know about that, but at least I'm sober and employed, right." Jack glanced at his friend. When Jack had been drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a whiskey bottle whining about how no one believed in him, Sarah had strongly suggested something a little more constructive before cutting Jack loose for good, something akin to Jack cleaning up his sorry ass and getting an actual career, something better than tending bar at Mama Colton's.

Jack was sure she had never meant for him to enlist, especially considering the climate of the country at the time, but Jack's father had been a career military man and after 9-11 the demand for willing men was high. Besides the Army could actually utilize some of Jack's finer qualities and if not tame, at least focus some of the not so nice ones, like his abundance of anger.

Jack Dalton senior had Jack in and out of hangers from the time he could walk. Jack's mom used to tease him that he'd cut his teeth on a joystick and had taken to flying quicker than he had walking, but after Jack's father's death in a crash she hadn't wanted Jack going near a plane let alone thinking about the military. She'd made him promise never to follow in his father's footsteps. It might have been semantics but Jack hadn't joined the Air Force, joining the Army instead. Still, Jack was determined it would be the one and only promise to his mother that he would break.

"Dude you're one of the top snipers in Delta, and you can fly any bird they have."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, dude, and the attempt at the pep talk but I'm not sure shooting people on command and my and aeronautical finesse qualifies me to take care of a kid." Jack had joined the Army to be a better man, to build some kind of life he could be proud of, one that Mac would be a part of. Jack had discovered along the way that he was good at fighting. War-as bad as it could be at times- was something he actually excelled at, putting his leadership skills and bent toward strategy to good use. Jack, however, wasn't as convinced as Boxer that others would see it as such a positive improvement.

"My mom always said the only thing a person truly needed to take care of someone was a whole lot of love." Boxer squeezed Jack's shoulder. "From where I'm sitting, you've got that in spades, brother."

Jack was spared answering by the sound of his name being bellowed from the computer screen. When he turned, Harry MacGyver was sitting in the chair his grandson had vacated, only the top half of his face visible because of his close proximity to the screen.

"Harry, you don't have to be right in front of the camera." Jack turned his back to Box, his friend picking up on the cue that Jack didn't need or want any moral support for this particular conversation. "And I can hear you just fine if you talk just like we were sitting across the table from one another. You don't' have to shout."

"I hate these damn computers and you boys know it," Harry growled in his typical curmudgeon style.

"We know it, Harry." Jack couldn't help but to smile as the older man scooted back and all of him, including his trademark fishing lure covered hat appeared on the screen. James MacGyver's father had been one of the first good things Jack had encountered when he'd been forced to move to Mission City, California at the prickly age of fourteen. James's dad had seemed to take an instant shine to Jack and quickly worked on converting him to Lakers fan. A love of basketball was one of the things he and Harry could still agree upon. "It's why I stick to sending you snail mail, like the soldiers did it back in your day."

"Back in my day," Harry grunted. "You make it sound like we used carrier pigeons or the Pony Express. There's nothing wrong with the written word, Jackie boy."

"Hey, I'm making use of that Yosemite Sam stationary the kid sent me, so I'm not complaining." Jack actually liked getting letters from home. His grandmother, Harry, and the occasional post card from Sarah was sometimes the bright spot of his week. Mac liked to send things in secret code, challenging Jack to figure out the damn cryptography. Jack would never admit it but sometimes it took him weeks to decode his brother's letters. The guys from Jack's unit even took it as a challenge to see who could break the cipher first, teasing Jack that Mac would make an excellent spy.

"Did you like the last care package I sent you?" Harry's mouth didn't twitch but Jack recognized the mischievous glint in his gray eyes.

"The Jerky was great but you do know I'm actually old enough to buy those types of magazines that you used to wrap the tin in, right?" Jack snorted. "Although I have to say Miss June was a mighty fine package in her own right."

"I know war can be hell, bud." Harry nudged the brim of his hat. "I just want you to remember there will be better things waiting for you when you get back stateside."

"You know Miss June personally?" Jack's lifted a brow. "Because she doesn't look the type to hang out at the bingo hall or any of your old fishing hole, but I hope you'll give your favorite grandson an introduction when the time comes."

Harry didn't miss a beat. "Mac's a little young to be parading in pin up girls, don't you think. I couldn't even get him to invite that little Penny Parker from down the street to his party. As far as I can tell she's the only other friend he has besides Wilt." Harry scratched his chin, eyeing Jack. "But I'm guessing you didn't want to talk to me about some odd sibling rivalry or your brother's lack of social skills."

Jack winced, having had that very discussion with Harry the last time Mac had come home from school with a black eye, not the sibling rivalry but Mac's inability to fit in with the other kids his age. This new threat made a classroom bully pale in comparison. "I want to talk about the plans for Mac's big day."

"There's not a whole lot to talk about, believe it or not I can actually handle putting together a child's birthday celebration. I've thrown some fine parties in my day, despite what your lovely grandmother, Beth, thinks." Harry narrowed his gaze at Jack as if he knew Jack was behind her and JP's decision to visit. "She's so unconvinced of my social graces that she's having JP bring her all the way here where she will undoubtedly light upon my kitchen like a hungry bird on a moth."

"It's not the party I'm worried about, Harry." Jack growled, knowing his time was running extremely short and chit chat was not what he intended to accomplish considering the ass chewing his tardiness would earn him. "Mac has this grand idea that James is going to show up and surprise him with some big present."

"Told you about that, did he?" Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes, taking his hat off to twiddle with the fly Jack recognized as the one he'd help Mac tie over Thanksgiving the year before.

"He's over the moon about it and we both know Mac's not much to be wound up about anything, unless it's some science experiment he's nailed. What do you think?"

Harry glanced around behind him, looking to Jack like he wanted to make sure the coast was clear before speaking freely. When he turned to face Jack once more, Jack already knew what his answer was going to be. "I think the boy is going to be mighty disappointed."

"Damn it, Harry. That's not okay." Jack could feel his pulse quicken, his face start to heat up. He might as well have been on another planet for all the good he could do to stop the possible fallout he envisioned from this latest gaffe. "Go get him whatever it is that he thinks his old man is bringing. The rocket or a freaking telescope. If it's the money, I can wire you the cash or JP will…"

"It's not about the damn money, Jack. We both know Mac could care less about a present," Harry snapped, uncharacteristically. Like his son and grandson, Harry didn't get overly animated about much. The MacGyver men were like ducks on a pond, seemingly still and serene. A body had to delve beneath the surface to see the manic, constant motions going on. "It's James. He's not coming to the party."

"Why the hell not?" Jack pointed a finger at Harry before the old man could open his mouth. "And don't give the same line of bull your son feeds me every time I talk to him. James can't be that damn busy at work."

"It's not work, Jack, but he's out of town just the same and I don't expect him back anytime soon." Harry sat the hat back on his head with a huff.

Jack blinked. The heat in his face fled, replaced by a chilling blast of dread. "What exactly are you telling me, Harry?"

"I'm telling you that James left Mac with me, and he didn't' exactly take the time to say a proper farewell."

"Is he dead?" The question rolled off Jack's tongue, the only reasonable explanation for such a turn of events. Despite his faults, Jack loved James. The man had been devoted to Jack's mother, doing everything he could to please her including caring for the son from her first marriage. He'd never tried to replace Jack's own father, but he'd tried his best to be a friend, to give Jack what he needed, treating him as well as he did Mac, at least until Jack and Mac's mom had been diagnosed with cancer. "Did something happen…"

"He's fine, bud." Harry shrugged. "Not fine, I guess, considering what he's done, but he's not in any physical despair, at least none that he bothered to share with me."

"He will be when I get a hold of him." Jack growled, his hands clenching into fists.

"I might be worried about that if you weren't in bloody Yemen, or Baghdad, or whatever desert you're in and can't divulge to us, but we both know there's not a damn thing you can do about James at this point in time."

"What are _you_ going to do?" Jack demanded, trying to get his breathing under control. Harry was right. The only thing Jack would be doing was going on yet another mission.

"I'm going to let your brother have his party, have one more decent birthday, before I sit him down and explain that his daddy hasn't gone on some business trip, but has left for good."

"You can't do that." Jack reeled at the very idea of doling out such a crushing blow to Mac's already fragile ego. It hadn't been so long ago that he'd lost his mom, and then Jack had pretty much deserted him to a father who was only partly present. "What the hell are you thinking, Harry?"

"I don't want to do it, Jack." Harry said, softly. "It's the last thing I want to do, but I can't let him keep on believing the man's coming back, that he's going to show up like Santa Clause and make all his wishes come true. He sits at the window and waits like some kind of forlorn pup. It's not right. I can't bear it any longer. Besides, he's going to figure it out before long. Better he hears it from me before some busybody at the school or diner lets the ball drop."

"It will break his heart." Jack heard his voice crack, felt the lump lodged in his throat grow in size. At least when their mom died, Jack had been there. They'd both been there, watching as she drifted away from them a piece at a time. There had been no need for hard explanations when the truth was so painfully present and undeniable. "It's his fucking birthday."

"He's a strong boy." Harry seemed to come back to his stoic, 'pull yourself up by the bootstraps' self. "Besides, he still has us. That's more than some."

"More than some?" Jack choked, gave a disbelieving shake of his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "That's not good enough for Mac and you know it. He deserves a whole hell of lot better."

"It's not your decision to make, Jack."

"The last time I checked it wasn't yours either, Harry."

"James had a lawyer draw up some papers before he left." Harry sighed, looking off across the room, unwilling to meet Jack's gaze as if he was well aware of the hurt and indignation he'd find if he did. "He made me Mac's temporary guardian. So I will be the one making the decisions for the time being."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Jack pounded his fist on the desk. "James should have fucking contacted me. That bastard knows I should be taking care of Mac, it should be me."

"From Iraq, Afghanistan, or is Haiti this week? I watch the news, son. You boys are ass deep in unofficial maneuvers." Harry shook his head, staying infuriatingly calm in the face of Jack's wrath. Jack wished he could reach through the computer screen and shake him. "We both know you're locked into your situation for a while yet."

"Damn it!" Jack howled, painfully aware that someone had entered their quarters and was breathing hard behind him. He didn't even have to turn around to know it was Boxer coming to tell him he had to get his ass on the move. Jack kept his gaze on Harry, knowing that there time was officially up. "Maybe I can get special leave for a few days. I was planning to come home for Christmas but I can change that. I might be able to pull some favors and come in within the week." Delta wasn't exactly regular Army. Jack had some leeway. "You can at least wait until then to break the news."

"It's not going to make one bit of difference, bud." Harry rubbed at his eyes, giving a resolute shake of his head that Jack recognized all too well. "His daddy's still going to be gone."

"But I'll be there…" Jack tried. "I'll be there, damn it."

"I've got to get back to the party planning, Jackie boy." Harry tried for a tired smile that had Jack's gut lurching. "You keep your head down, you hear."

"Wait…" Jack watched the screen go black, his heart pounding louder and faster than the rotor of the chopper he knew all too well he was holding up. He ran both hands through his close cropped hair, suddenly doubting every decision he'd made in the last three years. "Fuck!"

"Wyatt?" Boxer's voice was careful, like he was searching for an IED, afraid if he spoke too loud that something might detonate. "Time's up, brother. We have to go."

Jack nodded numbly, swallowing the bile at the back of his throat as he shoved away from the desk. He couldn't get the image of Mac's face out of his mind, the wide unhindered smile as he told Jack he loved him. Jack's eyes stung, but he shoved his emotions back into the neat little compartment he'd created for all the worst feelings. He was younger than Mac when he'd opened the door to find two Air Force officers bearing the news no family ever wanted to get. But at least he'd had his mom, one still functioning, devoted parent who'd made Jack feel as secure and loved as a boy who'd just lost his daddy could. Who the hell was going to do that for Mac? He could feel Box's eyes on him as he calmly and efficiently gathered his things, securing his weapon with practiced ease.

"I take it the when and the where of the big screw up is no longer in question?"

Jack couldn't even look at his friend, afraid the sympathy he might see reflected in his Boxer's gaze would unleash the flood of anger at James's unbelievable selfish act as well as the self-loathing for his own part in setting his brother up for such a crushing blow. He cleared his throat. "The bastard has cut his losses, left Mac high and dry."

"He ran out on him? For good?" Boxer's voice held a mix of disbelief and good old outrage. "That lowdown sorry sonofabitch."

Jack shouldered his pack, attempting to pass by Boxer without a reply. Boxer was having none of it. He caught Jack's sleeve before he could get out the door. "What the hell are you going to do, Wyatt?"

"Whatever it takes, brother." Jack finally met Box's gaze, and if the flash of worry and rare fear he saw reflected in his friends eyes was any indication, he must have realized the depth and weight that simple statement held. Jack took a breath, forcing himself to keep moving past Boxer and out to the chopper although every instinct in his body demanded he high tail it out of there and find a way home, a way back to Mac. Jack closed his eyes as the blast of heat hit his face, the smells of the desert and fuel causing his stomach to roil once more. He comforted himself by repeating the vow, this time in a whisper meant only for his ears. "Whatever it takes."

In the end, what it had taken was nearly an act of congress. But much to Box's relief, Jack hadn't had to kill anyone or even get himself shot or somewhat blown up to get a temporary leave. Their commander had come through with a string of favors that would cost Jack the sum of which he hadn't quite taken the time to calculate before agreeing to the conditions. Anything to get him home as quickly as possible.

He'd tried calling Mac during the time he was waiting on his orders to come through, the kid refusing to talk to him. Beth had told him Mac hadn't come out of his room after the disastrous end to the party. She had left plates of food at his door, reassuring Jack that they'd been empty each morning, but adding to his overwhelming worry by revealing that Mac hadn't even ventured out to say goodbye when her and JP had been forced to return to the ranch, having already stayed longer than planned and having no choice but to return to their home where it took a full staff to care for the horses and other animals.

Harry, for the most part, had been almost as silent as his grandson, bumbling through the one phone call he'd had with Jack, who'd explained he was doing everything in his power to get home. James hadn't bothered to answer his phone, nor had any of the sources Jack tapped been able to track him down. It was as if the man had fallen off the face of the earth.

Jack hadn't even bothered Harry when he'd gotten the confirmation of his leave, along with the date and time he'd be arriving at LAX, which happened to be exactly a week after Mac's world had been completely rocked. Jack was glad he'd made other arrangements to be picked up. Billy Colton was a friend from the bar Jack had worked in several years back, the owner's son, who'd proven himself skilled in more than one fight that often had them both nursing their share of bruises and running a bit scared from Mama Colton herself, who didn't like any trouble in her place, had dropped Jack at Harry's promising to pick him up for the return flight in a couple of days. As much as Jack had begged and pleaded he'd only been granted a week's pass, some of which would be eaten up by travel time.

Jack found the house eerily silent for a Saturday afternoon after using his key to let himself in.

"Mac, boy, is that you?" Harry came out of the kitchen, a dishtowel draped over his shoulder, as Jack dropped his bag on the floor. He wasn't sure if he should be somewhat heartened that his brother was obviously out and about or worried, especially when Harry's face looked a bit crestfallen at finding not Mac, but Jack standing in the doorway despite Jack not having been home in over six months.

"Hey, Harry."

"It's good to see you, bud." Harry's face formed what passed for a smile, and despite the lackluster initial greeting, the firm hug with which he embraced Jack was hard and appeared heartfelt. "I figured you'd show up sooner or later." He pounded Jack on the back before letting him go. "I'm just glad it's not in a pine box like everyone predicted."

"I wish it had been sooner." Jack pulled the baseball hat from his head, ran a hand over his hair. He ignored Harry's comment about the coffin, knowing the older man was secretly proud Jack was serving their country, just as he once had, even if no one else in the family had been particularly thrilled about it. "Where's Mac?"

"That's a good question." Harry sighed. "I haven't seen hide nor hair of him this morning."

"You checked his room?"

"The door was locked, as it often is since last week, but I jimmied it when he didn't answer. His bed's made, room as neat as a pin. He must have been out at sunrise because I was up at seven. The peanut butter's missing, along with a few bananas and bottled water. His backpack is gone, too."

"You sure he was home last night?" Jack cast an anxious glance around the home in which he'd spent his later teen years. Things hadn't changed much since his mother died, James had left the place mostly the same, and except for the fishing poles in the corner and the astronomy magazines on the table, Harry hadn't made much of a mark on the place in the years since he'd moved in.

"I'm not a complete idiot. I made him open the door to get his dinner, and I checked on him before I turned in. He was asleep, or at least pretending he was." Harry scratched his chin, looking older than Jack remembered. "I'm guessing he's at the treehouse him and Wilt have been building."

"He mentioned that." Jack thought back to the weeks before Mac's birthday when Wilt Bozer, the new kid in the neighborhood was the main topic of their conversations. Mac had told him about the secret hideout they were in cahoots to create, part science lab, part boy's lair. "Do you know how to find it?"

"I have a general idea, but if you want a good guide, I'd talk to Wilt. His family moved into Doctor Murray's house. Do you remember him?"

"I remember his lovely daughter." Jack sighed just thinking of the good doctor's long legged blond daughter, who despite being way out of Jack's league had a thing for bad boys and under dogs. Jack never minded punching above his weight when it came to beautiful women.

Harry grunted, giving a shake of his head. "I'll give Mrs Bozer a call so you can actually use the front door instead of sneaking in a window like you used to. You can take my jeep or if you've missed her, your GTO's still safe and sound in the garage."

Jack swallowed hard, thoughts of his shameless exploitation of Megan Murray's rebellious nature replaced by memories of his father's beloved Pontiac. Jack hadn't laid eyes on the car in a while. "I better go with the Jeep. Mac and I never did get around to changing those spark plugs and belts last time I was in."

"You know where the keys are." Harry nodded towards the small wooden table near the door. "I'll put your things in James's room, throw a lasagna in the oven for when you and the kid get back."

"I can get that, Harry." Jack was waved away as the old man picked up Jack's duffel. "Don't go to any trouble for dinner either. We can order pizza."

"It's no trouble." Harry huffed. "Your Nana spent the whole time she was here ordering me about and cooking. The woman packed my freezer full and still found time to color categorize my damn shirts and socks. Apparently she thinks I'm color blind and was afraid I'd let Mac starve to death."

"She didn't happen to leave any peach cobbler behind did she?" Jack grabbed Harry's keys from the drawer, letting his fingers linger for just a moment on the other key chain with the silver horse dangling from it. When he glanced up, Harry was smirking at him.

"She said you'd be here within the week. What do you think?"

"I think you should thaw out one of the cherry pies she's bound to have left for her favorite grandson." Jack pocketed the keys. "Mac's bound to be hungry."

"I wouldn't count on it. I've never seen him like this, bud, not even after your mother passed." Harry's voice was uncharacteristically soft. When Jack met his gaze, he caught a flash of pain, a bit of remorse and if he wasn't mistaken more than his fair share of guilt, blame that should have fallen squarely on James' shoulders. "I'd barely gotten the whole sordid truth out when it was like I could practically see the light go out of his eyes. He's closed in on himself, shutting everyone and everything out. His daddy used to do that. It seemed that sometimes the world was too much for him, so he just went to a world of his own, one where no one or nothing could reach him."

"I'll find him, Harry." Jack set his ball cap back on his head, as determined in this particular mission as he'd ever been on one for Delta. Mac would not be MIA, never on Jack's watch. "I'll get him home."

Operation Bring Little Brother Back was aided by Mac's new best friend,Wilt Bozer, who Jack found out promptly preferred to be called Bozer. He was of the mind that if Mac could go by his last name, then he could as well. Bozer's mother had been unbearably understanding and painfully kind to Jack. She'd invited him in to their lavish home, a place that was undeniably warmer and more welcoming than it had been when the Murray's had occupied it. Ms. Bozer was a lot friendlier than the previous matron of the house as well. She'd hugged Jack hard, welcoming him home, thanking him for his service to their country before bragging on Mac, mentioning his good manners and sweet nature.

She'd been extremely tactful when offering her concern about the recent events, which Jack was sure Bozer had related and insisted that her son accompany Jack, playing tour guide instead of just giving him directions to the treehouse. Jack hadn't had the heart to say no, although half way into the drive he'd regretted his decision. Wilt Bozer was far from shy and seemed to talk nonstop, which when Jack thought about it, probably suited his little brother's more reserved, quiet nature just fine.

"Mac says you're like Major Scott McCoy, only smarter." Jack could feel the boy's eyes on him as they navigated their way through the woods, having left Harry's jeep on the road. The treehouse wasn't technically far from the neighborhood if one cut cross country as the crow flies, but the drive had seemed long and daunting when he thought of his little brother travelling the distance by himself. Jack cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Who?"

"Chuck Norris's character from The Delta Force. I've seen it five times." Bozer, despite his short legs managed to catch up with Jack. "Have you ever bitten off a rat's head?"

"What?" Jack frowned at the kid, glancing at his the compass feature on his watch and then back to the Bozer. "Why would I do something like that?"

"Because someone put one in a sack and then tied it on your head."

"That's never happened to me, kid, and I don't remember that happening in the movie The Delta Force either."

"That's because it's in Missing in Action 2. Chuck plays Colonel Braddock and is tortured by his evil Vietnam nemesis." Bozer's face which was once full of awe now turned to one of disbelief when Jack stilled looked a bit clueless. "Even Mac's seen that classic, although he wouldn't watch the torture scenes. He said you were really afraid of rats, and I could tell the idea of you having one put on your head sort of upset him. Don't worry I told him that if you were as tough as he said you were then you could probably eat a rat if you had to, especially if it was a really angry rat and it was trying to tear your face off."

"I wouldn't say I'm _afraid_ or rats. I just don't like them. I also think you watch too many movies, kid." Jack shook his head, gaining new insight into Mac's recent worry about him being taken hostage by the enemy. Jack had blamed Harry letting Mac watch too many news stories about the war, but now realized Mac's new buddy was behind the obsession. The Chuck Norris marathons also explained the kid's sudden interest in Karate classes. "Maybe you and Mac should stick to something a little less traumatic, more realistic and kid friendly, like Die Hard."

Bozer's response was to point out a small dirt trail off to their right, one Jack could tell had been well-traveled in the last few weeks. Jack could see the wagon wheel impressions, probably what the boys had used to transport the wood they needed for the project. "Once you take this, the tree house is right up ahead."

"Aren't you coming?" Jack asked when Bozer hung back. It wouldn't be dark for a while yet but Jack had heard the distinct rumbles of thunder in the distance, warning of an approaching afternoon storm. He didn't feel right leaving the ten year old by himself.

"I'm temporarily out of the club," Bozer told Jack with a frown. "Mac said he was going it solo from now on and I'm respecting his decision."

"Mac's going through a hard time, Bozer." Jack sighed, not wanting his brother to lose one of the few true friends he'd seemed to have made. "He'll come around if you just give him time."

"That's what my mom said." Bozer's smile was back. "So I'm proving I can be trustworthy by not violating Mac's no-trespassing mandate." Bozer pointed to a nearby tree where Jack could make out a white piece of paper tacked to the bark. The skull and cross bones was unmistakable. "He posted the signs after he told me to go away a couple of days ago. I still come out here just in case he wants to talk, but I never get too close so he knows I respect his personal bubble. My mom is a therapist and she says I have a tendency to not understand that healthy relationships are all about the boundaries."

Jack dropped his chin to his chest, taking a deep breath to steal himself. "Okay, how about you stand guard on the perimeter here and if there is any trouble you give a really loud whistle. Can you do that?"

"How about I do a bird call instead?" Bozer practically bounced on his toes. "Because that's less conspicuous and something the good guys in the movies do when they're the lookout so the bad guys don't know anyone's on to them. I can do a really good owl," he continued on when Jack gave him a skeptical frown. "Do you want to hear it?"

"No,no." Jack held up a hand and gave a quick shake of his head. "I trust you, dude. If I hear any owls, I'll come running with guns blazing."

"Cool," Bozer said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "You've got a gun! Mac said you were a sniper."

"I don't have a gun with me, that was just a turn of a phrase." When Bozer looked crestfallen, Jack added. "But who needs a gun when you've got the skills of Chuck Norris. I can kill a man with my pinkie."

"That's awesome." Bozer crowed.

Jack pointed a finger at the exuberant ten year old. "Do not move from this spot until I get back or you'll get a firsthand demonstration, got it?"

"I won't." Bozer held up three fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Are you even a Boy Scout?" Jack gave the kid a dubious look. Bozer's neatly pressed khaki pants and Polo shirt with the little horse on the pocket cast serious doubts on whether the ten year old left the front of his television set without strong prompting.

"I was," Bozer told him, honestly. "For three whole days until the pack leader's big bully of a son, Donnie got Mac tossed out. I quit on principle. If my best friend isn't good enough for Troop 35, then Troop 35's not good enough for Wilt Bozer."

Jack had a sudden surge of affection for the chatty kid. Wilt Bozer was apparently loyal to a fault. He reached out and squeezed Bozer's shoulder. "I'm sorry I haven't said it before, but thanks for having Mac's back while I've been gone. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything." Bozer gave Jack a sheepish glance. "But Terminator 3 did open this weekend and Mac and I would need a parent to get in. I like extra butter on my popcorn."

"Duly noted." Jack snorted, releasing his grip on the kid. He hated freaking robots almost as much as he hated rats, but he'd even watch cyborg Arnold Schwarzenegger face off against some mechanical rodents if it would make Mac happy."

"You have to climb a rope to get in." Bozer called out as Jack started for the trail that would take him to the treehouse. "We did that because Penny Parker still can't scale the one in the gym." Jack shook his head as he continued on, smiling to himself despite the prospects of having to shimmy up a rope. It wouldn't be long before the boys were investing in a good ladder.

Jack wished he didn't have to wait for the boys hormones to kick in because he wouldn't have minded an easier way into the house than by rope as he managed to pull himself hand over hand the last little way. He was impressed with the construction and not for the first time, amazed by his little brother's ingenuity and aptness when it came to engineering concepts. Of course the kid had been able to out build Jack in Legos when he was about three.

As soon as Jack lifted the hatch and hoisted himself in he was greeted with a "Go away, Bozer."

"Sorry, kiddo," He said with a grunt as he levered himself onto the wooden floor. "Big brothers are exempt from all 'No Tresspassing' mandates from their kid brothers. You should remember that from when you tried to put that same skull and crossbones sign on your bedroom door last year."

"Jack." Mac turned from the wooden table he'd been working at, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You're here."

The 'finally' was unspoken but that didn't keep Jack's gut from twisting with guilt. He forced a smirk as he made it to his feet, glad his brother had the insight that he and Bozer wouldn't stay five feet tall forever and had given plenty of clearance with the roof. "Sorry for the delay but the Army is notorious for losing paperwork."

"You're not AWOL, are you?" Mac stayed seated, but Jack could see his shoulders tense. "When I told Bozer you'd be coming home, he said they can put you in jail for that."

"I'm here officially, bud." Jack sighed, grateful Bozer hadn't used his obviously morbid imagination and told Mac they might hand Jack off to a firing squad for such an act of insubordination. "If I'd had plans of going rogue, you'd seen me before now."

"I was worried you might." Mac looked down at his hand and Jack's heart gave a start when he followed his brother's line of sight. The ten year old's fingers were curled around an unseen object, but what had Jack crossing the small space in two bounding strides was the drops of blood now dripping onto the floor.

"Hey, what did you do?" Jack knelt by his brother, gently taking the boy's hand in his. "You're bleeding."

"I didn't mean to squeeze it," Mac explained as Jack carefully pried his fingers open to reveal a long jagged piece of glass. "I was trying to fix it, but when you came in…"

"I didn't mean to surprise you." Jack picked up the glass, anxiously gauging the gash across Mac's palm. "What were you trying to fix?"

"My terrarium." Mac gestured behind him to where the glass ecosystem his brother had proudly shown Jack last week lay in pieces, the base the only thing left intact. The irony was not lost on the older man. Mac ducked his head. "I knocked it off my desk and all the Lampyridae escaped."

"Accidents happen, kiddo." Jack said soothingly as he brushed his fingers over the shallow cut, making sure he got any stray bits of glass. "Do you have a first aid kit in this secret hideout by any chance?"

"It's a working science lab," Mac clarified, a more familiar stubborn set to his jaw. "It's always good to have emergency medical supplies nearby."

"Of course it is." Jack wasn't sure if he should be relieved to have field triage at hand or worried about what types of experiments his brother and Bozer were cooking up in their treehouse getaway to need such measures. Before he could say as much, Mac spoke again, his voice softer.

"It wasn't an accident."

Jack met the boy's wide blue eyes, recognizing the regret and flash of grief in the bright gaze. Jack gave a nod of understanding at the omission, knowing all too well the tendency to lash out when things went sideways. "Where's that kit?"

Mac pointed to a shelf just above where they were sitting. Jack let him go long enough to stand and grab the white metal box. A couple of pictures pinned to the wall caught his eye as he moved to sit back down. There was one of Mac and Jack at the ranch, Jack's horse Damascus's had thrust his head between them as Beth had taken the shot, garnering a wide mouthed laugh from Mac just as the shutter snapped. The others were familiar as well, one of their mom and James at the beach, their mother's beauty as blinding as the California sun. A new one showed Bozer and Mac, all knees, elbows and toothy grins.

"I like what you've done with the place," Jack told his brother as he opened the box and dug through to find what he'd need to clean and bandage the cut before reclaiming Mac's hand. "Solar lights?"

Mac nodded, flinching a bit when Jack ran the alcohol pad over the slice across his palm. "From Harry's old greenhouse."

"Nice." Jack tried to ignore the hitch in the little boy's breath, shutting out the mocking voice in his head that said he couldn't even keep his brother from hurting himself, let alone protect him from the cruelty of others. When he looked up at Mac after carefully putting the Band-Aid in place tears were swimming in his brother's blue eyes. Jack could tell the kid was working hard to hold them back and he had a feeling they weren't from any physical pain he'd caused during the patch up as his brother was as rough and tumble as a kid came, but he tried to offer solace just the same. He reached up and placed his hand on the back of Mac's neck, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Hey now. You're okay, bud. It's just a little scratch. No real harm done."

"I can't fix it." Mac said miserably, knocking Jack's hand away. He ducked his head. Tears spilled over to slide down his grave face and Mac angrily tried to swipe them away. The ten year old momentarily met Jack's gaze, heart-wrenching earnestness exposed in the silver depths. "I can't fix anything."

Mac's need to fix things was as integral to who he was as Jack's desire to save people. Jack recognized that some of his inclination to rescue those he loved came from knowing his father had drowned while awaiting help that hadn't come in time after his crash. He also understood that his brother's obsession with finding solutions to problems was in part birthed by watching their mom suffer and waste away a little at a time because no one had a cure to keep her with them. Both goals were lofty and noble in their own way, the only problem being that there would always be things that were beyond fixing as well as people who couldn't be saved.

"No worries, little brother." Jack tried once more, placing his hand on the kid's slim shoulder this time. His heart sped up as he was struck with that same heavy weight of helplessness he'd felt from thousands of miles away in Afghanistan. It settled on his chest like an elephant taking a load off. The closer proximity to his brother didn't help a damn thing, didn't seem to hold any magic answers. "I'll buy you a new terrarium. I swear. We can go straight to the store from here, and I'll even help you catch some more fireflies to study as soon as the sun goes down."

"I don't want another terrarium!" Mac snapped, surprising Jack again as he pulled away from him. "I don't want anything from you. Just leave me alone."

Jack rocked back on his heels, the kid's anger like a swift kick to the gut. He recalled Harry's worries about how Mac had been handling James's departure with silence and withdrawal and wasn't sure if the fact he was now lashing out was a good thing or if the situation had gotten much worse. Either way, the fury now turned in Jack's direction was hard to swallow.

"Bud…"

"My name is Mac!" Mac shouted, his hands balled into fists. "I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself. I don't need you so you can go back to Iraq or Afghanistan or wherever it is that you came from but can't talk about."

"I'm not going anywhere." Jack took a knee again, staying close to Mac. He was starting to understand the tirade. Mac was erecting walls to protect himself, something he'd taken to doing occasionally after their mom had died, only then it had been more of a quiet retreat and Jack had never found himself on the other side of one of his brother's barriers. He didn't like it one bit. "At least not until I know you're okay."

"I don't believe you!" Mac shot back, but Jack caught the tremble in his lip, the way he locked his arms across his chest. It was as if the kid was wrestling with himself, his need to lash out at someone for the pain he'd endured and the desire to seek some kind of relief from the hurt in direct conflict with one another other.

"I know you're hurting and I get that, Mac, I do, but have I ever lied to you?" Jack reached out and gripped Mac's arms, just above his elbows, giving him a little shake. Mac tried to look away, turning his head to evade Jack's presence, but Jack held firm. "Look at me! Even when mom was sick, I was straight with you. When I left for Afghanistan I showed you pictures, I told you what it was like over there." Jack might have left out some of the grim details in both scenarios but for the most part he'd been brutally honest. "I have always tried to do right by you, and nothing will change that. I promise."

"I tried to do everything right, too," Mac cried, Jack's promise not seeming to offer any comfort. If anything Mac's distress seemed to double, tears flowing freely now. Jack hadn't seen his brother cry since their mom's funeral, and even then it was more silent suffering whereas Jack had been the total basket case. Jack could feel the boy start to shake beneath his hands, little minute tremors that warned of an impending quake.

"I made my bed every morning, cleaned my room and put all my stuff away just like he asked. I made good grades, the best grades, and didn't even get into fights when the other guys hit me first, even when you told me to punch them in the face just like you taught me. I tried to be good. I tried to be…" Mac didn't finish his last thought, as if he'd suddenly run out of steam. The flash of anger disappearing as fast as it had come. The ten year old crumpled forward, like a puppet suddenly free of its strings.

"Shhh. It's okay." Jack caught him, though the unexpected move and impact sent him to his butt on the rough-hewn plank floor of the treehouse with an armful of totally distraught Mac. Jack held his brother tight as Mac clung to the back of his shirt. He briefly wondered if the boy's hot rebuke was preferable but then Jack caught the scent of the baby shampoo Harry still bought for Mac and Jack felt his chest tighten. The smell brought a lump to Jack's throat along with memories of their mother that had him pulling the little boy closer, wishing for nothing more than the ability to turn back time and somehow erase all the crappy breaks Mac had suffered.

"I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how." Mac's voice was muffled against the older man's chest but Jack could still make out the pain-laced confession.

"Take it easy, kiddo. Just breathe, okay." Jack ran his fingers over Mac's hair, rocking him slightly like he'd done when Mac was five and he would wake from one nightmare or another when their mother was at her sickest. He silently chided himself for not seeing the signs before. Children who lost one parent often tried to be perfect, drove themselves to do everything just right so they wouldn't lose the other one. Jack had done the same thing when his dad had died. Only his mom had been wise enough to recognize the ploy, offer the reassurances and security that finally allowed Jack to relax his unattainable quest to head off any more loss. James hadn't been so in tune with his son, burying himself in work that took him far away for extended period of time. Jack had been just as clueless, figuring his brother's pursuit of order and structure was just more evidence that the kid _was_ pretty damn perfect.

"He left me," Mac sobbed, choking on the words as if they were as sharp and cutting as the glass that had torn into his hand. He twisted his fists in Jack's shirt as if he could hide himself from the pain by burying into Jack. "Mom is gone. Daddy left me. Everyone leaves me."

"That's not true, Mac. I'm here." Jack tucked the boy's head beneath his chin. "I'm here."

"You left me, too," the kid accused.

Jack squeezed his eyes against the terrible truth. No explanation would help Mac understand. Motives meant shit when you were seven and your big brother goes away. "I know I did. But I've got you now. I'm not going anywhere." Jack wasn't sure how he'd pull it off, but he was determined to find a way to be what his brother needed, to do whatever it took to help him through this godawful mess. He could not abandon him again. "You will always have me. Always."

Jack wasn't sure how long they sat there, but he held on, speaking a stream of words that might not have made any sense but that he prayed offered some sort of solace. He shushed, he rocked and ran his hand through Mac's hair until finally the emotional storm seemed to let up. When Mac finally spoke again it was like that last unexpected round of lightning that could catch a guy by surprise just as he was about to come out from cover.

"Why did he leave?" Mac's voice was steadier, the question even harder because of the quiet that had surrounded them.

"I don't know, bud." Jack sighed, speaking the words close to the little boy's ear. "But I do know it had absolutely nothing to do with what you did or didn't do. This is all on him. Do you hear me?"

Mac didn't speak for another long stretch, the only sounds in the treehouse were the brothers' breathing. Jack could still feel the heat of tears soaking through his thin shirt and just when he was hoping for a break in the clouds, Mac's small voice thundered through him. "He's not coming back, is he?" the little boy asked. "He's gone forever, just like mom."

Jack felt the burn of the question he was dreading most. He gripped Mac's shoulders again, holding the kid at arm's length so that Mac could see his face, could read the truth in his gaze.

"I don't know if James is coming back." Jack reached up and brushed damp, too long bangs way from his brother's face. Jack wasn't entirely sure it was safe for the man to do so. Jack might just have to kill him. "But this isn't like with mom. She didn't have a choice in her leaving, Mac. You know that. She fought as hard as she could to stay. You know she loved you more than anything."

"Dad doesn't love me. He would have taken me with him if he did."

"Damn it," Jack swore under his breath, knowing that his words had not come out the way he meant. "Of course James loves you, bud. How could he not? He's your father. He will always love you and he will always be your dad. Sometimes grown-ups make incredibly bad choices and screw up everything even when they're trying to do what they think is right?"

"Like when you hit the police officer and had to go to jail?" Mac wiped the back of his hand under his nose, prompting Jack to grab a paper towel from the roll he'd seen on the desk. He offered it to Mac who blew his nose before adding, "Boxer had to bail you out and then you went away to the war."

"Yeah, well, that's definitely an example of a guy not thinking things through." Jack took the crumpled paper and tossed it in the trash can. At the time of that disastrous decision, Jack had only known that the police officer was keeping him from his brother, enforcing an order of protection that James had no right pursuing in the first damn place. But in the end, Jack's hurt feelings and temper had gotten the best of him bringing nothing but more pain to Mac and the rest of their family.

"Harry said you did it because you were sad and scared, and sometimes people did really stupid things when they're feeling those things." Mac pulled his knees into his chest, resting his chin atop his knees as he blinked up at Jack. "Do you think my dad is sad?"

"Maybe." Jack reached out and laid his hand on the side of Mac's face, using his thumb to swipe away the latest tear that slid over the boy's reddened cheek.

"I could make him happy if he would just come back." Mac swore. "If he'd just…"

"It's not your job to make him happy, Mac," Jack cut the ten year old off before he could propose some kind of bargain that would inevitably leave Mac holding the bag when whatever plan it was failed to come to fruition. "Nobody can make a person stay when all they have on their mind is running. Trust me, I know."

"Like the horses that JP can't break?" Mac asked, fiddling with the laces of his shoes. "The wild ones he sets free in the back forty?"

Jack swallowed hard against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. JP Dalton was a man who didn't cotton to breaking an animal's spirit. He was of the notion that some horses, like certain people, weren't meant to be fenced in.

"It could be that James just needs to stretch his legs and run free for a while, bud." Jack gave a shrug of his shoulder. "I wish to hell I could give you all the answers, Mac. But I can't tell you something I don't know. Your dad is the only one who knows the truth and until he's ready to explain, I imagine its best we not go jumping to any conclusions."

"Like when I don't have enough information to propose a hypothesis?" Mac raised a brow, and Jack marveled at the fact the little brother he knew and loved was once more front and center, all the emotions from before seemingly neatly tucked away. Jack had been taught to compartmentalize his pain and feelings by some of the best military minds, but it seemed Angus MacGyver had a natural talent when it came to the skill. Jack wasn't sure if that would serve his brother well, or handicap him greatly in the future.

Still, Jack couldn't help to smile at the much more characteristic question. "Exactly, Boy Genius."

"Is it wrong that I'm really, really mad at him?" Mac's lip trembled again and it looked like he might start crying once more. Jack didn't think his heart could take another round, so he was quick to shake his head.

"No way, kiddo. You be just as mad at your old man as you want to be. I'm pretty pissed at him myself." Pissed didn't begin to cover it, but Mac didn't need to know that. At the moment, Jack hated James MacGyver. Unlike the misappropriated and slightly irrational animosity he'd felt as a teenager twelve years before, these feelings were all grown up and man-sized. The sensation quite possibly made worse by the fact Jack had come to not only trust James over the years, but to love him. James had worked long and hard to convince Jack he was worthy of both and in one careless act he'd ruined it all, obliterated any common ground the two shared by James's careless trampling of Mac's heart.

Jack might could have forgiven him for forsaking the promise he'd made to his dying wife, for betraying his and Mac's mother's memory by blowing their family to hell, but he would never, _never_ , forgive James for hurting Mac.

"Are you mad at me?" Mac asked quietly, his eyes once more on his shoes.

"What?" Jack reached out and bumped the little boy's knee. "No way."

"I yelled at you," Mac said, his blue eyes once more finding Jack's brown ones. "I said mean things."

"Brothers tend to do that from time to time." Jack lightly punched the kid's shoulder. "You'll probably say a lot worse before all's said and done between us. It's just a good thing family has to forgive one another."

A sudden rumble of thunder had Mac jumping, once more scrambling towards Jack. The kid had been afraid of storms when he was smaller, but had long sense outgrown the need to come running for shelter, or maybe, Jack thought in light of their most recent conversation, Mac had just denied himself the comfort because the ten year old believed everyone expected him to be strong.

"I've got you." Jack wrapped an arm around his brother, pulling him close once more. "Nothing's going to hurt you when I'm around. Right?"

"Right." Mac nodded against his shoulder, his fingers once more latched in the folds of Jack's shirt, although without the previous desperation. It wasn't long before the wind picked up, branches brushing fiercely against the outside of the treehouse in promise of a good downpour to come.

"I guess we won't be collecting lightning bugs after all," Jack said sadly, although after the recent emotional roller coaster ride, the prospect of a night in was far more appealing than one spent chasing bugs. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Actually Lampyridae from the order Coleoptera come out more during a storm," Mac said casually, now fiddling with Jack's St. Jude pendant that hung from the chain around his neck.

"You don't say," Jack forced a small grin as he looked down at the ten year old who was tracing his finger over the medal. "I'm guessing the cloud cover makes for a better show? You know what Nana Beth says about the light shining brightest in the dark."

"That's not why they show up more in a storm, Jack." Mac sat up, regarding his brother with a very familiar furrowed brow, fear and grief having temporarily been replaced by the opportunity to explain something complicated in 'Jack-speak'. "Fireflies only give eggs in the water so that would account for their increased illuminating activity. They flash to attract mates so wet weather is optimal for what you call a show but what is actually a mating ritual."

"I get it," Jack's grin widened and he bobbed his eyebrows up and down. "Lightning bugs find the rain more romantic." He knew his answer would bring the blush he could see creeping onto his brother's flushed cheeks but was elated when his antics elicited a laugh that wasn't quite as hardy as usual but still sounded a bit like music to his ears. "Wonder if Penny Parker likes to collect fireflies in a thunderstorm? We could ask her to join us."

"Shows what you know." Another crack of thunder, followed by a streak of lighting didn't garner the same reaction from Mac this time. He merely smirked at Jack. "Girls don't like bugs _or_ getting wet."

"Hey guys?" Before Jack could produce a valid argument to the contrary, a small voice wafted up from below them through the opening in the treehouse floor. "Can I come up now? I know I'm technically trespassing but I'm not really great with storms and I really don't want to get wet. Hello?"

"Is that Bozer?" Mac quickly scrambled away from Jack to put a respectable distance between him and his brother. The ten year old looked appalled at what Jack imagined was the very idea of Mac's new best friend seeing him as anything other than completely capable of killing a fierce lion and old enough to choose his own name. Mac swiped at his eyes attempting to erase all traces of what he obviously saw as more evidence of his weakness. "What is he doing out there?" he hissed.

"How do you think I got here?" Jack frowned at his little brother. "It's not like you gave anyone the co-ordinates, a fact we will be talking about later."

"Mac?" Bozer tried again. "Captain Dalton?"

"You told him you were a captain?" Mac narrowed his gaze at Jack, effectively turning the tables of guilt on the older man. "You're only a First Lieutenant. Nana Beth says we shouldn't stretch the truth because there's always a snapback."

"Hey, you're the one who made me out to be Chuck Norris." Jack reached out and ruffled his brother's hair. "I just didn't correct your buddy's wrong assumption."

Mac moved away from Jack with a shake of his head, going to the hatch. "Come on up, Bozer." Mac smoothed a hand over his shaggy hair which Jack determined they'd be cutting before his visit was up. "Remember our talk, Jack. No little brother or bud, it's Mac. Only Mac."

"Got it." Jack gave a mock salute. "Mac it is."

Bozer was either a really fast climber, which Jack seriously doubted, or he was already most of the way up before Mac gave the all clear because it was only a few moments before his head appeared through the opening followed by the rest of his body.

"Hey," He nodded to Mac.

"Hey." Mac scooted back, ducking his head a bit.

"I'm not trying to be in your bubble, but I was afraid to go back to the car since your brother ordered me not to go anywhere until he came back." Bozer flicked his eyes to Jack. "He's kind of scary but the storm's moving in fast."

Both boys looked at Jack, who held up his hands. "I wasn't the one who put up the trespassing signs."

"Sorry about that." Mac told his friend. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the club."

"No biggie," Bozer said amiably as if all was forgiven. "I know it's been a rough couple of days."

"Yeah, but things are going to get better now." Mac glanced at Jack again before looking to Bozer once more. "You can come and collect fireflies with me and my brother if you want."

"You mean touch bugs on purpose?" Jack couldn't quite help but to chuckle at Bozer's look of pure disgust. "Not to mention it's about to rain outside. Did you not hear the thunder?"

Mac gave his brother another helpless glance. Jack was quick to rush in for the save seeing at least one thing he could actually fix. "Or we could always just catch a movie." So much for his night in. "Someone gave me the heads up that Terminator 3 opened this weekend."

"Can we get popcorn?" Mac asked, looking almost like his old self, the version who hadn't yet been abandoned by the father he adored.

"With butter," Bozer added before Jack could answer.

"Whatever you boys have room for after lasagna and cherry pie, I'll spring for it." Jack picked up Mac's back pack, slinging it over his shoulder. "But if we're going to make it to the car before the sky opens up we better get a move on. ASAP."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Bozer rubbed his hand together, reaching for the rope to climb back down. "Killer robots here we come."

"You hate robots, Jack." Mac pointed out as Jack took a seat beside him, trying to look excited about the new plan.

"Not as much as I hate rats." Jack winked at Mac, reaching over and giving his neck a quick squeeze. "Things could always be worse."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Mac looked over Jack's shoulder to the broken terrarium, or maybe, Jack thought, he was staring at the picture of his parents. "I don't want to know what's worse than this."

"Hey." Jack tugged on Mac's shirt, reclaiming his attention. "No matter comes next we're in it together."

Mac nodded. "Because you promised mom."

"No." Jack reached over and tipped Mac's chin up so their eyes met. "Because you're my brother, and I love you."

Mac met Jack's gaze and despite the hurt still churning against the blue, Jack was thankful for the spark of light he could see. "I love you too, big guy."

Jack grinned, making a fist and holding his hand up to Mac. "Then bring it in, brother."

Mac took Jack by surprise by foregoing the handshake and instead wrapping his arms around Jack for a hard hug. When he pulled back, Mac offered a fair imitation of the same grin he'd given Jack on the day of his birthday. "Maybe if we have time after the movie we can go get my new terrarium you promised me. I'll need some plants too, like a Variegated Spider Fern, some Starfish plants and even a bunch of Minimus Aureus."

Jack saw the suggestion for the apology it was. He felt that old elephant get up from off his chest, allowing him to breathe a little lighter. "Maximus Areas," He smirked, knowing he was way off base, but loving the way he was certain his brother would react. "I got it."

"It's _Minimus Aureus,_ as in a plant from the arum family." Mac shook his head in affectionate exasperation before grabbing the rope so he could climb down. "Boxer's right. You so don't have it, Jack."

Jack grinned after the kid. He might not be the genius in the family, but he was definitely smart enough to know exactly what he _did_ have, and how incredibly lucky he was to have it. The only unknown variable in this particular equation was the exact lengths Jack might be forced to go in the coming months in order to keep it.

RcJ

The end…for now


End file.
